


it could be amazing

by ikayokat



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, M/M, Meet-Cute
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-26
Updated: 2017-06-26
Packaged: 2018-11-18 23:19:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,261
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11300910
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ikayokat/pseuds/ikayokat
Summary: “So,” Lance says, and Keith can’t tell if he’s lowering his voice in an attempt to try and sound sexy, or if he’s just adhering to the rules of the library. Lance looks up at him from behind hooded eyelids and smirks. Keith decides it's probably a bit of both. “Do you come here often?”





	it could be amazing

**Author's Note:**

  * For [aknightley](https://archiveofourown.org/users/aknightley/gifts).



> happy birthday to one of my dearest loves @aknightley!!!! not to get all sappy but i love ya lots and hope you have the most wonderful birthday!!! pls take this small klance as an offering of my love and a way to say thank you for blessing this fandom with your fics this past year and for making it a pleasant space to be in 24/7!!! <3

Keith is both late and lost, an undesirable combination and definitely not one he particularly wants to be enduring on his first day of work. Sighing in frustration, Keith pulls out his phone and alternates between squinting at the map on the screen and glancing up to avoid bumping into the other pedestrians and cyclists as he makes his way down the busy street.

He turns a corner, belatedly realises it's a dead-end, swears furiously under his breath, doubles back on himself and tries the new route the map on his phone is offering up. To his annoyance, but not really to his surprise, the new route is as fruitless as the first one.

As he hurries back down the main road, having more or less decided to give up with the map on his phone entirely and instead rely on the few street signs dotted sporadically here and there, Keith tries to ignore his cousin's voice he can still hear echoing in his mind, offering him a lift earlier that morning. At the time, Keith had been ridiculously early and had welcomed the opportunity to explore the city a little before arriving at the library. Two and a half hours later and currently fifteen minutes (and counting) late for his first day at his internship? Not so much.

His phone  _bleeps_ a few times in his hand, alerting him to a new route to the library his GPS has mapped out for him, and his heart sinks. Somehow he's managed to end up even further away from his final destination than before. What  _should_ have been a relatively easy 20 minute walk from Shiro's apartment has miraculously turned into what now looks like a thirty minute bus ride across the city. Still, according to the map the nearest bus stop is only a three minute walk away. Keith quickly brings up the bus countdown app on his phone and glares at the screen. The next bus is due to arrive in the next two and a half minutes.

Telling himself that being 45 minutes late on his first day doesn't necessarily mean the end of the world, Keith sprints towards the bus stop and, by some sheer stroke of good luck, manages to make it just as the driver begins to close the doors. He tosses a handful of coins into the ticket tray, not particularly caring if he's paid too much or not, tears his ticket off the roll and makes his way further into the bus. At this time of day only standing room is available, so Keith squashes himself between a man carrying two big bags of cat litter and a window and prays the journey will go quicker than his app is currently predicting.

The cat litter man glares at him as Keith brushes against him slightly when the bus jolts forwards, but Keith has bigger problems to be worrying about right now. Problems like: how is he going to explain to his new boss just how he managed to be 45 minutes late on his first day  _without_ making it seem like he doesn't know how to do something as simple as read a map. And also: he's vaguely worried that, in his haste to reach the bus stop in time, he's managed to sweat through his shirt, though he doesn't dare lift his arm to confirm his fears.

The traffic isn't as bad as it could be, especially considering they're still technically in the midst of rush hour, but every time the bus pulls in at another stop and a crowd of people either take their sweet time boarding or hopping off the bus, Keith feels a jolt of irritation course through him. By the time the bus stops for the seventh time and a small group consisting of a couple guys his age and an elderly man who seems to be having difficulty locating his bus pass begin to board, Keith is more than ready to fling himself out of the bus and just sprint the rest of the way to the library.

He watches, eyes narrowed, foot impatiently tapping against the floor, as the elderly man pats himself down, an innocently confused look marring his features. Keith is about two seconds away from just offering to pay the fare himself if it'll help speed things up, when one of the guys standing behind the man steps forwards, says something Keith can't hear, and drops a handful of coins into the ticket tray. The bus driver waves them both ahead and Keith heaves a sigh of relief as it pulls away from the curb and continues on through the traffic. He keeps on watching as the elderly man is offered a seat and the two guys move further into the bus, stopping a short distance away from him.

Now, Keith isn't a starer but he can't keep his eyes off them. They're both so incredibly  _loud_ they immediately disrupt the anti-social silence that had blanketed the bus for the entire journey. In a way, Keith feels weirdly grateful for their noise. Listening to them both laugh or excitedly talk about some movie they'd watched the night before ( _Wonder Woman_ , Keith thinks) helps to distract his attention from the fact that he is horribly late for work himself. The one who'd paid the fare for the elderly man is standing closest to Keith. He's tall, though not as tall as his friend, and definitely the loudest of the two. Every few seconds or so he laughs loudly then covers his mouth, eyes widening, cheeks flushing as he seems to catch himself and remember where he is. It's a nice laugh though, so Keith doesn't mind as much as he probably should. He's animated too, frantically waving his hands and arms in the air as he describes a scene in Wonder Woman to his friend.

The bus comes to a halt at the next stop and the guy has to pause in his explanation of a fan theory to his friend in order to step aside and allow people to exit the bus. By the time everyone has hopped off and a new crowd of people have jumped on, the bus is more packed than before and the guy and his friend have shuffled a little closer to Keith. From this distance, Keith can see and hear both of them a little better than before. The friend is talking now and he's noticeably less animated and loud as the other guy, but Keith can clearly see excitement in his eyes as he talks about all the potential he thinks the upcoming _Justice League_ movie has after having seen _Wonder Woman_. The other guy is listening to his friend ramble on about Aquaman and a bunch of other things Keith doesn't quite understand like it's the most fascinating discussion he's ever had. And— Well. The things is, superhero movies aren't really Keith's thing at all. He a sci-fi kind of guy and would have trouble differentiating between what's a _Marvel_ movie and what's a _DC_ movie, but listening to the both of them speak about the movies? Keith suddenly has a mighty need to run home, load up Netflix and binge-watch every superhero movie they have available on the service.

Their conversation pauses again as the bus comes to a stop and both guys take a step backwards to allow the flood of people to shuffle off the bus. This time when the doors close and bus pulls off, it's much emptier than before. Both guys move to lean against the window directly opposite Keith's and, for the first time since they'd gotten on the bus, Keith finds himself face to face with both of them. The tallest of the two, a dark skinned boy with shaggy hair pulled back from his face with a bright orange hairband, offers Keith the polite kind of smile you shoot random strangers in the street when you accidentally make eye contact with them before turning back to his friend and launching into a discussion about all the possible directions the  _Justice League_ movie might go in. But his friend catches Keith's gaze and doesn't look away. In all actuality they probably hold each other's gaze for less than two seconds, but to Keith it feels like an eternity.

"Earth to Lance," his friend says, nudging him -  _Lance_ \- gently in the chest with his elbow. Lance makes a pained noise and turns away from Keith to glare at his friend. Grateful for the sudden distraction, Keith shifts slightly on the spot so he's no longer standing in Lance's direct line of sight. There was something in Lance's gaze, an intensity that was simultaneously soft and _fierce_ in equal measures that leaves Keith feeling oddly warm.

From his new position, half hidden behind the cat litter guy (who keeps huffing passive aggressively whenever Keith so much as brushes against him), Keith can't see Lance or his friend, but he can still hear them. They've moved on from discussing superhero movies and are now trying to figure out where they're going to eat for lunch. Lance is stubbornly advocating for burgers and fries while his friend won't budge on visiting an Italian restaurant that's apparently only a short walk away from wherever they're going.

In the end, Keith doesn't find out what they end up going with. Their faux-argument lasts for the rest of the time Keith is on the bus and by the time his stop comes up, they're still nowhere closer to solving the problem. The bus comes to a halt, the doors open and Keith determinedly keeps staring straight ahead as he walks past the both of them to hop off.  Or, at least, he  _tries_ to. When he steps off the bus he can't help but glance over his shoulder. To his surprise, Lance is staring directly at him, brows knitted in the middle, bottom lip pulled between his teeth. As the doors close behind him, Lance seems to realise he's been caught staring. He jumps and his cheeks colour slightly, but he doesn't look away. Instead, the corners of his lips curl upwards into a shy sort of a smile and he  _nods_ at Keith. At a loss for what else to do in the situation, Keith nods awkwardly back. Lance looks visibly surprised by Keith's awkward (and more than a little confused) response and opens his mouth, but whatever it was he had been about to shout through the windows of the bus, Keith never finds out. The bus pulls away from the curb and hurtles down the now empty street and Lance is gone.

Keith watches the bus go until it's almost a blip on the horizon at which point he remembers that he's currently horrendously late for work. Pushing all thoughts of Lance out of his mind, Keith turns on his heel and makes a mad dash to the library.

 

 

As it turns out, his supervisor hadn't even been expecting him for another hour. Keith is sweaty, out of breath and in desperate need for a comb for his now sweat and heat ruined hair when he arrives panting outside his supervisors office door, so this isn't  _really_ what he wanted to hear. In a way, he thinks it might be worse than getting chewed out for being so late.

His supervisor is a nice guy though. He's very sympathetic to Keith's state and quickly ushers him into his air conditioned office, forces him into a spinny chair at his desk and pulls out a cold bottle of water from his personal fridge stuffed under said desk.

"Thanks," Keith says, gulping down the water like he's just emerged from spending a year in the desert. A voice in the back of his mind that sounds suspiciously like Shiro's reminds him that he needs to make a good impression so he clears his throat and says: "Thanks, Mr. Smythe."

"Just call me Coran," he says, waving a dismissive hand in front of Keith's face as he leans against the desk to peer down at him. "Mr. Smythe was my father." Then he winks and laughs loudly for a good thirty seconds and Keith is struck with the horrifying realisation that this is going to be a very,  _very_ long summer.

Once Coran is satisfied that Keith isn't about to pass out due to heat related complications, he gives him a tour of the library. It's smaller than Keith had expected, especially for such a large city, but it's also comfier than any library Keith has ever stepped in before and he immediately feels at home. There are large, plush sofas and armchairs dotted around everywhere and Keith immediately dreams about sinking into one with a good book and never get up again. Coran takes him through their archiving system and their loaning policy and Keith is pleasantly surprised at how easily he picks it all up. He's worked at libraries before (a week of work experience here and there throughout high school), but this is the first time he's ever felt even somewhat confident that he isn't going to make a mess of things so soon after arriving.

After they've got Keith all set up with his own passcode for the various systems and a swipe card to get into the building before and after hours, Coran introduces Keith to his coworkers. Well, he introduces Keith to one of them.

"Pidge," Coran says brightly as they approach the main reception. At first, Keith isn't entirely sure who Coran is speaking to. The reception is completely void of life as far as Keith can see, save for a tiny plant pot sat next to a whirring computer, but then a brown head pops up from under the desk and grins at them. "How's the WiFi upgrades going?"

" _Great_ ," Pidge says, huffing slightly as she climbs out from underneath her desk and pulls herself onto her spinny chair. "I've still got a few tests left to run on this computer," she taps her monitor fondly and sighs. "But we should be good by the end of the week."

"Excellent," Coran says, patting Pidge's head like one might pet an especially adorable puppy. "Just in time for the summer rush! And, to help with the rush," Coran not-so-subtly reaches behind him and shoves Keith forwards. "We've got a new intern. Keith, meet Pidge our receptionist and unofficial IT whizz. Pidge, meet Keith, our wonderful new intern."

Pidge sizes Keith up for a long second before she leans forwards and sticks a hand out across her desk. "Nice to meet you, Keith. Welcome to the crew."

"Is it just us three?" Keith asks as he shakes Pidge's hand. The library is small, yes, but certainly not only three employees (one of whom is only an intern) small.

"Nah," Pidge says, leaning back into her seat. She kicks her legs up on the desk and Coran immediately  _harrumphs_. Rolling her eyes, Pidge takes her feet off the desk and sticks her tongue out at Coran. "There're a couple more of us you'll meet this summer."

"Allura, our Head Librarian, is currently away on holiday visiting her father," Coran says. "But she'll be back at some point next week, and I'm sure you'll get along just fine. We've also got two more part-time employees who  _should_ be coming in today?" He turns to Pidge and cocks his head to the side, adding an inflection at the end of his statement so it comes out sounding more like a question than anything else.

Pidge nods. "Yeah, they're coming. I think they're picking up the kids directly from the school today."

"Ah yes," Coran says, clapping his hands together. "Over the summer we run a reading programme for some of the local schools and nurseries in the area. It's actually quite popular."

"That's Coran's way of telling you to make sure you wear something waterproof on Monday's and Thursdays." Pidge wrinkles her nose and shudders. "You wouldn't think they'd be able to cause much trouble with just a couple books and a bottle of water but..." Pidge trails off and shudders again.

"Ignore her," Coran says. "Pidge is just being dramatic. The children enrolled in the programme are delightful if not, ah,  _slightly_ rambunctious. But you don't need to worry about that," Coran says quickly, accurately deciphering the look of fear that flits across Keith's face. "Our children's team are more than competent to deal with things."

They hang around talking to Pidge for a few more minutes before Coran directs Keith to two large and overflowing trolleys full of books - aka, Keith's Job For The Day.

"Sorry it's not a more exciting start to your internship," Coran says apologetically. "But we've been understaffed for a few weeks now and I just haven't had the chance to go around reshelving anything for a good while."

"It's fine," Keith says, and he means it. Reshelving may be one of the duller tasks, but he knows it'll also give him the chance to learn the library from top to bottom and, if he's lucky, he'll be able to spend a few quieter moments with his nose in a book. The top book on one of the trolley's has already caught his eye and Keith makes a mental note to check it out on his break.

Once he's sure Keith isn't too overwhelmed with the magnitude of the task and that he'll be able to make a start without any help, Coran disappears back to his office and Keith is left alone on the floor. It's just gone midday and the library isn't exactly booming, but it's got a pleasant buzz to it that serves as decent background noise as he makes his way through the trolleys.

He's interrupted a few times as the afternoon goes by and, save for one time, he manages to help the person locate the book easily without having to ask either Pidge or Coran for help. By the time his break rolls around, he's made a decent dent in one of the trolleys and doesn't feel guilty about stealing away in a corner with one of the books that had caught his eye while reshelving. He ends up settling near the children's section, only because it's home to the most comfortable looking armchair in the whole building, with a science fiction novel about warring races in space and an ancient weapon that promises to bring peace when wielded by the right warriors. He doesn't expect to enjoy it as much as he does, but the minutes fly by without him realising and, before he knows it, his break is over. He sticks a piece of paper in between the pages to mark his place and moves to push himself up from the armchair. It's then that Keith realises the library has becoming significantly busier while he was on his break.

Standing close to the reception are a group of children, all squealing and laughing loudly among themselves while two people - two people who look very,  _very_ familiar - talk to a grumpy looking Pidge. Keith fights the urge to flip over the armchair and hide behind it as Pidge suddenly looks up and points directly at Keith. Both Lance and the other guy spin around on the spot and—

"Oh  _hey_ ," Lance calls across the library. Several people, including his friend and Pidge, immediately  _shush_ him and he whispers out an apology, before frantically waving Keith over.

Keith hesitates and wonders if maybe he can pretend like he hasn't seen them, but realises the library is small enough that he'll only be delaying the inevitable. Swallowing down more nerves than he'd like to admit, Keith crosses the space between them and offers them both an awkward wave. "Uh. Hi?"

"Keith," Pidge says, nodding at him. "Meet Lance and Hunk. They're in charge of our kids summer reading programme. Lance, Hunk, meet Keith. He's our new intern."

"Nice to meet you, Keith," Hunk says politely, offering Keith a bright smile. "I don't know if you remember us, but we were actually on the same bus this morning."

"Yeah, I remember you," Keith says, praying his cheeks aren't as visibly warm as they feel right now. "You were talking about Wonder Woman."

" _See_ ," Lance says, nudging Hunk pointedly. "I told you he was listening."

If Keith's cheeks weren't pink before, he knows, without a shadow of a doubt, that they are now. To try and save face, he twists his lips into a frown and narrows his eyes at Lance. "It was pretty hard not to. You guys were pretty loud."

Hunk grimaces apologetically in his direction but, for some reason, Lance only smiles, like he's enjoying some sort of inside joke with himself.

"Don't you two have children to be looking after?" Pidge says with a frown, her gaze fixated on the group of small children still huddled behind Lance and Hunk. "I think they're starting to get restless."

The children look anything but restless, if Keith is being completely honest with himself, but Lance's smile is beginning to unnerve him. "I'm gonna get back to reshelving," he says, already beginning to back away. "It's was, uh, nice to meet you guys. I'll see you around?"

Lance's smile dips slightly at the corners for a fraction of a second before it's back in full force as he waves Keith away. "See ya around, Keith." Hunk and Pidge both murmurs goodbyes and Keith quickly grabs his trolley and disappears to far end of the library where Lance and Lance's smile won't be able to find him. In theory.

 

 

The children are, predictably, extremely loud and quickly begin to disrupt the quiet that had blanketed the library all morning. Every few minutes Keith will hear an excited shriek or a loud cackle of laughter coming from the children's section, following by frantic  _shush shush_ 's from either Hunk or Lance. A few of the other library visitors tut or huff or shoot passive aggressive glances in the direction of the children's section whenever this happens, but Keith can't quite bring himself to feel irritated.

About an hour after the noises start, Keith sneaks over to the children's section and peeks over at them from behind one of the taller shelves. Lance and Hunk had rearranged all the colourful plastic chairs in the area in a large circle with them both sat in the middle on a bean bag each.

Each of the kids have a thin, hardback book in their hands and Lance and Hunk takes turns choosing a child to read a sentence or two. Some of them are surprisingly competent for their age, and every time they get through a sentence without fumbling Lance leaps up from his beanbag and sticks a sticker on their chest. When a child does stumble over a word, Lance and Hunk are on hand to gently coax them through it, helping them sound the word or letter out until they get it. Once the kids have all had a turn reading, either Lance or Hunk will read the next chapter of the book in full. When Keith watches them, it's Lance's turn to read and Keith is treated to five minutes of over exaggerated facial expressions and terrible voices that leave the kids clutching at their ribs in laughter.

When they decide it's probably a good time to break for lunch, Keith quickly hurries away before he gets caught spying and tries not to think about how endearing it was watching Lance read to the kids.

 

 

Reshelving is a harder task than it looks and, aside for his brief break to watch Lance and Hunk interacting with the children, Keith doesn't stop working until Coran comes to find him to tell him he needs to take a lunch break.

"Five more minutes," Keith says, waving away a mildly concerned looking Coran. He's only got a few more books to reshelve and then he's finished with the first trolley. He tries not to think about how the second trolley is significantly larger and that he'll probably be working on it for the next few days.

Coran pauses for a few seconds, looking like he's debating with himself whether it'd be entirely legal to forcibly drag his employee back to his office and force him to take a break, and then sighs. "Alright. Just don't be too long now. We don't want you to overwork yourself on your first day."

Keith assures him that he won't and Coran scurries away, presumably to drag Pidge away from her computer and force her to have a lunch break as well.

It takes him longer than five minutes to finish reshelving the last few books. Two of them are easy finds, but the third one belongs on a high shelf tucked away at the very furthest end of the library so not only does he have to find the correct place for it, but he also has to spend another ten minutes looking for a ladder he can use to climb the shelf safely. By the time he's finished and everything's packed away, both Pidge and Coran are back from their lunch break and Keith has Coran's office all to himself. Keith closes the door behind him and sinks into Coran's chair, relishing in being alone for a moment. Reshelving had taken more out of him than he'd anticipated and he's contemplating potentially crawling under Coran's desk and sneaking in a quick nap, when the door to the office is thrown open and Lance comes sauntering in.

"There you are," Lance says brightly. His hands are full with two brown paper bags so he uses his foot to close the door behind him. "I was worried you'd already gone for lunch. You didn't bring anything did you?"

Keith shakes his head as Lance clears the space between the door and himself in three quick strides and leans against the desk, dropping the bags onto it as he goes. He'd actually forgotten about getting something to eat for lunch, more preoccupied with recuperating some of his strength through sleep. "I should probably go and grab something."

"No need," Lance says, nodding towards the brown bags on the desk. "I saved you some of the kids food. I mean," Lance adds quickly when Keith shoots him a questioning glance. "I didn't take their food to give it to you, but we always order a couple of portions too much, just in case. You know how kids are."

Keith doesn't actually know how kids are. The closest thing he has to a kid in his life are his cousins's cat, and they ignore him 99.9% of the time. Still, he nods like he knows exactly what Lance is talking about and helps himself to one of the bags. "Thanks," he mumbles, pulling out a plastic container full of what looks like pasta and another slightly smaller container filled to the brim with salad.

"The portions are a little small," Lance explains apologetically as he reaches for the other bag and begins tipping the contents on Coran's desk. "But hey, free food, am I right?"

"They're fine," Keith says, fumbling to get the tiny plastic fork out of its packaging. "Thanks."

"You already said thanks," Lance points out, mouth already full of pasta. "But, no problem. I figured you probably didn't have a chance to grab something and you looked pretty tired out there so I thought, hey—" Lance pauses and the tips of his ears redden slightly. "Sorry, I'm rambling aren't I? You can just tell me to go if you want me to. I mean—"

"You're fine," Keith says, biting back a grin as he stabs some salad onto his fork and forces himself to swallow it down. "So, um, I guess Hunk won?"

"Huh?"

"This morning?" Keith clarifies, swallowing down a forkful of surprisingly delicious pasta. "You and him were arguing about where you were gonna go for lunch. You wanted burger and he wanted..." Keith trails off and lips the tiny plastic pot of pasta in the air.

" _Oh_ ," Lance laughs. "Actually, Coran had to be the tie-breaking vote since of us would budge. Apparently burger and fries aren't suitable meals for a group of kids all aged under five, blah, blah, blah." Lance rolls his eyes and then cocks his head to the side slightly, fixing Keith with an intense stare. "You were listening to us this morning."

It's not a question and, even if it were, Keith knows he wouldn't be able to dispute it. "Like I said earlier," Keith says, hoping his shrug is as nonchalant as he's aiming for it to be. "You two were talking pretty loudly. I'm pretty sure half the bus heard."

"Well, yeah," Lance concedes. "Probably half the bus  _did_ hear. But you were the only one who was  _listening_."

Once again, Keith feels a warmth spreading up his neck and over his cheeks. "I— I don't—"

" _Relax_ , Keith," Lance says easily, a soft smile curving the corners of his lips. "I'd be listening too if someone as handsome as  _moi_ were standing just a few feet away."

Keith snorts into his pasta and shoves at Lance's leg with his free hand. "Are you always like this?"

"Like what?" Lance winks at him and leans a little closer. "Devilishly handsome and charming?"

"Is this what you call being charming?"

Lance leans in a little more. "Is it working?"

To be honest, it is working. Keith feels himself subconsciously leaning closer to Lance, until his arm is brushing up against his thigh and he's crowding into his personal space like he belongs there. "What do you think?"

Lance's grin widens and he drops a hand down onto the desk to lightly ghost his fingers up Keith's arm. He's barely touching Keith, but he leaves goosebumps in his wake. "I think—"

For the second time that afternoon, the office door is thrown open. Coran pokes his head in and heaves a sigh of relief when his gaze lands on Lance. " _There_ you are! Hunk needs you back out there with the kids. They're starting to get a little antsy and there's only so more times that poor boy can sing  _Itsy Bitsy Spider_ before they riot."

"They're five-year-old's, Coran," Lance mutters, looking visibly annoyed as he slides off the desk, tosses the remains of his lunch into the nearby trashcan, and slouches over towards the door. "I'm pretty sure they're not capable of rioting."

"Well, let's not find out, shall we?" Coran says, gesturing for Lance to step past him and into the corridor. Lance glances back over his shoulder at Keith and offers him a sad little wave before he disappears into the corridor and Keith hears his footsteps quickly hurrying away. "No, no. Don't you rush, Keith," Coran says when Keith begins to stand up. "You finish your lunch break and then come out." He closes the door behind him and Keith, once again, finds himself alone in Coran's office.

He doesn't enjoy it as much this time round.

 

 

Pidge has to leave early to rescue her brother who apparently managed to lock himself out of their apartment so Keith spends the rest of the afternoon on reception. It's a fairly dull job. At this time of the day there are very few visitors to the library, so Keith busies himself with either reading the book he'd started earlier or watching Lance and Hunk as they read  _Elmer the Patchwork Elephant_ and  _The Rainbow_ _Fish_ to the children. Hunk is just as animated as Lance when it comes to reading to the kids, but it's  _Lance_ Keith can't keep his eyes off as he strolls around the circle, pretending to be a fish swimming around or an elephant waving its trunk in the air. Once or twice, Lance glances up at him and almost catches him staring, but Keith is quick and knows when to turn his attention back to his book.

He's got about twenty minutes left of his shift before he can clock out and leave for the day when Hunk and Lance begin to get the kids all packed away and ready to go home. Keith watches, smothering his laughter with the sleeve of his shirt, as they both fumble around with making sure each child leaves with the right coat and, in the case of few who have for some reason kicked theirs off at some point during the day, the right shoes as well. One child is seemingly determined to never leave the library again and, when Lance approaches her with her coat, makes a frantic dash towards the horror section to hide behind the shelves. Keith doesn't bother to try and hide his laughter this time as he watches Lance chase a child only a fraction of his size around the library, doing his best to hiss quietly at her to " _be a good girl now_ ".

By the time he manages to corner her (ironically hiding under a table in the childbirth and parenting section) Hunk has managed to corral all the other kids together and they're waiting patiently by the exit. Lance emerges from the childbirth and parenting section with one giggling four-year-old tucked under his arm and a look that so very plainly says  _Don't Mess With Me_ on his face. So, of course, Keith has to laugh. Loudly and openly, as soon as Lance passes the reception.

"Something funny?" Lance asks, stopping in his tracks to glare over at a still chuckling Keith.

"Oh, definitely," Keith says, letting the grin tugging at his cheeks do as it pleases.

"I'd like to see  _you_ handle a four-year-old hyped up on  _chocolate buttons_ ," Lance retorts, raising his voice slightly on the last two words. Behind him, Hunk grimaces apologetically and Keith makes a mental note to ask about that later.

"Pretty sure I'd do a better job than you," Keith says, nodding to the child still tucked, squirming under Lance's arm.

Lance glances down at the child (who takes the opportunity to look up at Lance and stick her tongue out) and seems to realise that Keith may just have a point there. "One sec," he mumbles, before he swivels around on the spot and marches over to where Hunk is stood with the other children. He sets the girl down firmly on the ground, hands Hunk her coat and shoes, says something to Hunk that Keith can't hear from this distance (something that makes Hunk rolls his eyes and laugh) and then marches back towards Keith with an oddly determined look on his face.

Lance approaches the desk and Keith prepares himself for his worst. Idly, he wonders why he feels a rush of exhilaration shooting through him, but he doesn't pay it much attention.

“So,” Lance says, and Keith can’t tell if he’s lowering his voice in an attempt to try and sound sexy, or if he’s just adhering to the rules of the library. Lance looks up at him from behind hooded eyelids and smirks. Keith decides it's probably a bit of both. “Do you come here often?”

" _What_?" Keith splutters, because he'd been expecting Lance to say a lot of things but he hadn't been expecting that. "What're you—"

"It's a pick-up line, Keith," Lance says patiently, sighing slightly as he taps his fingers on the desk. "Flirting, you know? You ever heard of that?"

"I have," Keith says slowly, wondering if Lance can hear the way his heart is thudding loudly in his chest. "I've just never seen it done like this before."

"Like what?" Lance says, grinning as he leans against the desk, crowding slightly into Keith's personal space.

Keith picks up the nearest pen and lightly taps Lance on the forehead with it until he pulls back a little. " _Terribly_."

"I am  _not_ a terrible flirt," Lance says, clutching at his chest dramatically. "Maybe you're just a terrible flirtee?"

Keith quirks a brow. "Flirtee?"

"The person the flirt is aiming his flirtatious remarks at," Lance says impatiently, like this should be common knowledge. "And, for the record, you  _are_ a terrible flirtee. I was giving you my best moves on the bus and you just ran away."

"Best moves?" Laughter bubbles out between Keith's lips. "You just— You just stared at me and smiled."

"I was  _smizing_ ," Lance says, shaking his head at him. " _Smizing_ , Keith. Keep up, now. If we're gonna be friends or, _anything_ , you've gotta be quicker than this."

Keith recognises the subtle insult buried in there, but his mind is racing as it focuses on something else first. "Anything?"

Lance nods and Keith gets a glimpse of the shyness he can see bubbling under his cocky and confident exterior. He runs and nervous hand through his hair and nods again. "I mean. If you'd like?"

Keith doesn't even have to think about it. "Yeah. I would like that."

Lance grins, leans forwards then seems to think better of it and pulls back. He rests his hand over Keith's for a fraction of second before he steps away from the desk and offers Keith a lazy wave. "I'll see you tomorrow then, yeah?"

Keith smiles and waves back. "Yeah."

It  _is_ going to be a long summer but, Keith thinks as he watches Lance jog back to Hunk and the children, he has a feeling it's also going to be a great one as well.

**Author's Note:**

> i hope you enjoyed this milove!!! (this is where i admit i was your anon on tumble asking for fic tropes ;)) ilylots and i hope you enjoy your special day!!
> 
> fic title comes from 'young hearts' by nombe


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